Fourteen
by Lestrudel S
Summary: Sherlock is back at school after Christmas; this is daunting for other kids, but for him, Molly, John and Greg this means more puzzles, more adventure, and...a camping trip? The sequel to 'we're not gullible'. Based on the hound of the baskervilles by ACD. Can be read alone, but I wouldn't recommend it. Fluffy Sherlolly. T for language and violence. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

This is the sequel to we're not gullible- s/9576581/1/We-re-not-gullible  
This story will make more sense after reading that :3  
Thanks :D -LS

I wanted to be a Detective. Solving Fryatt's case only re-inforced that. But I knew I had to get better. Hone my skills. So that's what I did. Over the Christmas holidays I made my powers of deduction the best they could be. I noticed the tiny details of the tiny details, could look into someone's life by the way their shoelaces were tied. I had looked up memory techniques online and built myself a mind palace I could use for years. I had amazing skills and they could only get better.  
I waited for the train with my three best friends- John, who was a doctor in the making, Greg, who wanted nothing more than to be a DI, and Molly, who wanted to be a forensic scientist and was also my girlfriend.

Greg, the mini-DI, was eating a rather large cheese and onion pastie when I arrived at the station. I grinned at him, and he grinned back through a mouthful of pastry.  
"Sherlock!"

"Hey, Greg. Have a good Christmas?"

"Yeah, but I got food poisoning from the turkey."

I raised an eyebrow. "Food poisoning...from Christmas turkey?"

"Yeah, I know. Pretty hard to do. But that's my family for you. Always unpredictable. Anyway, how was your Christmas?"

"Presents were good...dinner, not so much." I paused. "My grandparents always come- anyway, my Gran on my Mum's side is a complete pain. She always criticizes me and stuff. It got too much and I dumped the gravy boat on her head."

Greg started laughing uncontrollably, just as John showed up. I told him the story, and they were both laughing. I grinned, remembering the dinner.  
John started nudging me in the arm as Molly walked into the station, hugging her Mum, saying goodbye.  
"Look, Sherlock, it's your girlfriend!"

"Shut up, John! I know she's my girlfriend."

John burst out laughing as Molly walked up to us. We hugged- I wanted to kiss her, but not in front of John and Greg, although they had already seen us kissing. Other people didn't have a problem with kissing in public; I did. It was something private and special, to me.  
The train arrived, to take us back to school for the start of another year. I hoped for another case. It was the most fun I had had in years.

* * *

Science first, with Fryatt. He was a lot nicer to us, me in particular. He still called me _Professor_, but in a more friendly way. His quiff was still ridiculous, he was still arrogant and bossy. He hadn't changed at all, despite what he had been through. I had- and, as far as my deductive skills were concerned, for the better.  
The news tat we had been kidnapped had spread around the school; suddenly, we were as popular as popular could be, although we stuck together and didn't let anyone invade our close friendship group. Dimmock hated us more than usual because he wasn't the main attraction any more. That was good; it annoyed him.  
I expected this term to be ordinary, dull, boring, predictable; I was wrong. Again.


	2. Chapter 2

**_I've had a really good idea from Hitthefloorrunning and I'm gonna use it :D The idea is to follow the storyline of the hound of the baskervilles. So, just wanted to credit them. Thanks :D  
~LS_**

The first day of term went as normal- we had a lot of people questioning us about the kidnapping and how we escaped, but we didn't tell them much. They got bored of us quickly. We hadn't gotten into another fight with Dimmock, which I was _almost _disappointed about.  
After school, we climbed over the fence- I could land on my feet by this point, just for the record -and went to the beach. It felt exactly like my first day, only I was closer to John and Greg, and Molly was my girlfriend rather than just a girl I 'fancied'. We had all been through so much together in the space of a term; we had been kidnapped, caught a bomber and cleared Fryatt's name, and this was before I was even fourteen.  
We sprinted along the worn path towards the beach. It wasn't as warm as it had been a term ago and we had long missed the sunset, but I still felt as free and Molly looked as beautiful. Her nose was red from the cold, her eyes were wide. I slowed down, walking beside her.

"You look freezing."

"I am."

I took off my black duffle coat and put it around her shoulders. It was far too big for her and hung limply around her frail arms, making her look even smaller and skinnier than she already was. She smiled at me.

"Thanks."

"It's no problem." I said, as we watched John and Greg disappear over the edge of the sand dune. I held her hand, my other arm around her. She looked up at me happily, looking a bit warmer. I smiled back, happy to see her happy. We reached the end of the path, and I held both her hands, first up high at chest height and then pulling them down to my waist. We both jumped, simultaneously, falling towards the sand and gazing at each other in the last of the winter sun. We kissed when we hit the sand, and it was the happiest moment of my life, even better than Christmas. It was kind of awkward, with John and Greg, but I didn't care, and neither did Molly.

* * *

"Percy woods?" I asked, looking at the letter for our residential trip.

"Yeah, the Year Nine's get to go during the half term. You basically camp out in the woods, make your own food, do what you want. Teachers come, but they go to a different camp. They're only there to drive us there and back, really. You _have_ to go, Sherlock! It'll be amazing!" said John.

"I am going!" I said, grinning. John grinned back. "A week in the woods with my best friends? What could be better?"

We walked from registration to our first lesson, meeting up with Molly and Greg on the way.

"Did you both get the letter?" asked Molly, excitedly. We nodded. "You both _have _to go."

"We are!" said John and I simultaneously. "Are you, Greg?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm bringing _loads _of food. What are toasted marshmallows called again? S'mores?"

"Yeah, I think so."

We walked to the science lab, talking excitedly about the trip, although it was a good five weeks away. I thought I would physically _explode _if I had to wait that long, but I would have to. I had never been more excited for anything in my life.

Science was as expected; a boring talk, a few worksheets, homework, Fryatt being nice to me (which was still weird). I was far too excited to concentrate; I hoped it wouldn't be like that for the next five weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

That half of the term passed far too slowly. It dragged on and on; a day felt like a week. But then, after five log, boring, banal weeks the half term came. I left my packing until the very last minute, although I had been _buying _thing to take for weeks; camping stuff, food, even- amazingly -some clothes to take, although Molly had picked most of it.

"Are you sure? It looks awfully...mature." I had said, pulling at the woolly blue scarf.

"It looks great! It really suits you. Keep it, please. I'll even buy it if I have to."

I bought it, and it and I were inseparable ever since. I kept it on rather that packing it.  
I struggled to close my small suitcase, because of all the clothes, sweets and books I had packed. Yes, I was taking books with me on a residential school trip- I had to have _something _to do. I would soon realize that I wouldn't need them, but at the time I thought I would.

I could hardly contain my excitement the night before we left- neither could John. We both wouldn't shut up about it. Greg- surprise surprise -had packed about ten bags of fudge, twenty sausage rolls, and more food that filled his suitcase to bursting. Molly had been sensible and packed a minimum amount of food and only things she would _actually _need. We stayed up in the common room until three in the morning and eventually fell asleep down there. John woke up at six and got us all up; we had to get up early anyway. I had a quick shower, quicker than usual because of my excitement, and dressed. I wore denim tapered jeans, a white t-shirt, my black duffle coat and, of course, my blue scarf. Molly was right- it _did _suit me.

I met the others in the common room and we walked to the coach that would take us to Percy Woods. Molly looked beautiful, as always, wearing her classic skinny jeans and a blazer-type jacket over a loose floral shirt. Her hair was in a plait and her face was fairly devoid of makeup- as I liked it. Greg and John teased us about being together, but in a friendly way.  
We put our suitcases in the back of the coach and got in. I sat next to Molly, with John and Greg opposite us. We hugged basically the whole way there, and I wanted to kiss her, but not with so many people watching.  
Us four were going to share a tent. The teachers were surprisingly nice about letting boys and girls mix like that, but they liked us for 'saving Fryatt'; that had a lot to do with it, I think.  
Molly and I fell asleep after an hour, still hugging. John shook me awake for the second time that day.

"Wake up, mate, we're here!" he said, grinning. I grinned back, and woke Molly up. We practically ran out of the bus and grabbed our suitcases, heading towards the camp.  
The camp it's self was a clearing in the middle of the forest. It had toilets and barbecues, and that was about it. There was a shop within walking distance that sold food if we needed it. When we wanted to eat we had to wait for the teachers to come, who would light the barbecues or camp fires and supervise us as we cooked, then go back to their camp and do whatever they did- drink, I expected. For the first day Molly, John, Greg and I lived on s'mores. The teachers let us- as I said, we saved Fryatt, in their eyes.

"These are delicious!" I said after practically every toasted marshmallow entered my mouth.

"I can't believe you've never had s'mores before." said Greg.

"Never been camping, never had a barbecue."

"What?!"

"Well, you've met my parents." I said, cramming yet another s'more into my mouth. I gorged myself on marshmallows, which was pretty odd of me, seeing as I barely ate otherwise. I ate even more when John had the genius idea of melting chocolate to dip the marshmallows in. Between the four of us, mainly Greg and I, we finished three packets in the first night. It was the happiest I had ever been.


	4. Chapter 4

"What now?" asked Greg. He looked almost as full as me, after stuffing ourselves with marshmallows.

"I dunno." I said. "Molly? John?"

"We could go into the forest, I suppose." said John.

"I thought we weren't allowed to leave camp except to go to the shop!" said Molly, looking at John.

"Since when did that stop us from doing stuff?" he said. Molly shrugged.

"I'm happy to go." said Greg. I nodded. We stood up, leaving the marshmallows, the tent, the safety, unaware of why we weren't allowed to go into the woods, especially after dark...

* * *

"I think we're lost." I said, after four hours of trawling through trees and forest growth, wanting marshmallows and the relative warmth of our tent.

"You don't say?" said John, who was looking and probably feeling miserable. It was pitch dark, being the middle of winter. It was also freezing cold and raining, the water falling in icy sheets, and I was more glad than usual to have my scarf with me, but I wished my coat was waterproof. It could be worse. It could be hail instead of rain.

"This was all your idea, John." said Greg grumpily. He hadn't brought any food with him, which was bad for the rest of us, because he wouldn't shut up about the lack of food, the cold, the dark, the rain. We eventually took shelter under a tree, sitting on the grass underneath it. Molly hugged me for warmth. None of us talked, feeling too miserable, cold, tired and exhausted to do anything but breathe. There was a deadly silence in the woods; all I could hear was the sound of rain hitting the floor and mine and Molly's breathing; well, until I heard something else. Something all together more sinister and terrifying than rain. _A howl._

The four of us jumped up and ran in the opposite direction of the wolf, dog, _hound. _I sprinted along the muddy bank, tripping more times than I could count and slipping at every footstep, my trainers squeaking and sliding in the mud. We eventually found our way back to camp, soaked and covered in the wet soil. I tried to convince myself that I had over reacted- after all I only heard a howl, really more of a bark, I didn't actually _see _anything.  
I went to the toilets and changed into pajamas, wrapping my duffle coat tightly around me on the way back to the tent. Everyone else had gone to sleep except for us four; it was well past midnight, and everyone was tired. I slid into my sleeping bag, cocooning it around myself to retain the warmth, eventually falling asleep next to Molly.

I woke up the next morning very cold and sore. Molly was curled up against me, still asleep. John was on the other side of me, his toes next to my head, and Greg on the other side of Molly, _his _toes next to _her _head. Only Molly and I had slept with our heads together, but then we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  
Everyone looks younger when they sleep, I thought. Molly's eyes were closed softly, the end of her nose covered by her sleeping bag. She looked like she could be about eight, not a thirteen year old who had been kidnapped, caught in a bombing and beat up the school bully and his friends, although she was beautiful either way.  
I was the only one awake, so I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I got out of the tent, putting on my coat and scarf for warmth. There was only one other person up- _Dimmock__._ Oh joy of joys.

"Hey, _Shirley_. D'you have a nice time with your girlfriend?"

"Shut up, Dimmock. You're just jealous."

"Jealous? Of you?" he said, laughing. "Why would I be jealous of _you_?"

I tried to ignore him.

"Oh, I see. I should be jealous of you because I don't have Molly."

I ignored him, again.

"I should be jealous because I'm not _sleeping_ with her." he taunted, choosing his words carefully. I knew exactly what he was hinting at.

"Shut up, Dimmock, you pug faced imbecile."

He laughed. Not a great insult, I know. I still needed to develop my wit a bit, but it worked, because he left me alone after that. I hated him. I hated him _so _much.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you sure it wasn't Freak?" I heard Sal whisper to Andy.

"I don't think he's quite deranged enough to kill someone."

"Thank you, Andy. Now, if you and your girlfriend are quite done calling me childish names and whispering behind my back-" I butted in, but was cut short by Andy.

"She's not my girlfriend." he said, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh, really? I _do _beg your pardon."

"Anyway, _you're _the one that's going out with Molly Hooper."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Andy laughed. "She's _such _a weirdo, but then, at least she's not a freak, like you."

"Don't talk about Molly like that!" I said, ignoring the insult directed at me.

"Or what? You'll hit me?"

"Maybe I will."

We glared at each other. I was about to take a swing at Andy, but I felt Molly's hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "Don't, Sherlock. He's not worth it." she said. Andy laughed. I walked away into the woods, taking my anger out on the trees, punching, kicking.

"Sherlock, calm down, mate." I heard John say, standing behind me.

"How? How am I meant to calm down when everyone is deliberately trying to piss me off?!" I said, pummeling the nearest tree with my fists.

"Attacking a tree isn't going to help!"

I didn't stop.

"Look, Dimmock's an idiot. Andy's an idiot. Punching a tree isn't going to give them any more IQ points."

I didn't listen to him.

"Someone was killed last night. In the woods. Everyone thinks it was a dog, there were footprints next to the body and bite marks on his arms."

I stopped. "You think we heard the dog last night."

John nodded. "It must have been huge..."

"You mean they haven't caught it? Haven't even seen it?!"

"So...?"

"We've got to find it!"

"Sherlock, that dog killed someone! We can't just go running after it!"

"If you don't, I will."

John put his head in his hands. "You're going to get us both killed, you know that? Going after bombers and rabid dogs."

"I didn't say you have to come with me!"

"Of course I do, I'm your best friend!"

I looked at him, and he looked back. He was determined; there was no way he would let me go by myself.

"Tonight." I said, and John nodded.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this." said John, as we entered the woods. "You're going to get me killed. Or at the very least, kidnapped again."

"It's going to be fine, John! It's only a dog. It's not like when we went chasing after bombers."

"That dog killed someone! A grown man! What's it going to do to two kids?!"

"John, shut up! The dog really _will _kill us if it hears us!"

He sighed.

"I didn't make you come! You can go back to the camp whenever you want!"

"What, and let my best friend get killed?"

_I _sighed. We walked in silence to the tree we sat under the previous night, hoping to hear another howl and this time run _after _it, rather than away from it. John had had the genius idea to bring fudge with him, so we sat in the dark and ate nearly the whole bag.

"You and Molly seem happy." John said in an offhand kind of way, him mouth full of fudge.

"We are. At least _I _am; I think _we _are."

John shrugged.

"What about you? No one you...fancy?" I said, using John's vocabulary. He laughed.

"I'm not going to tell _you_."

"I'm your best friend! We were tied up in a cellar together, we're chasing a killer dog, but you won't tell me which girl you like?!"

"Of course not! Besides, you'll only laugh about it."

"I won't, I promise!"

"You will!"

"I won't!" I said, grinning at him.

"Fine! God, Sherlock." he took a deep breath. "Irene Adler."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. "John, she's _way _out of your league."

"How?!"

"She's the most popular girl in our year! Besides, Dimmock likes her, so unless you want your neck broken I wouldn't try to kiss her any time soon."

"Like Dimmock could take me."

"That _is _true." I said, and John laughed. He opened his mouth to say something, but then we heard it; the howl.

"Is it just me, or...does the dog sound like it's closer than last time?"

"It's definitely closer." I said as I stood up, fighting the urge to run away. I switched on my flashlight, John switched his on too, and we went after the dog. We ran as quietly through the woods as we could. And then we realized just how close the dog was. We heard it _sniffing_. It was behind a tree; I turned slowly to see it, and nearly fell down the mud bank. It was huge- easily the size of a horse, with matted black fur, sharpened two-inch long teeth, huge feet tipped with claws and glowing green eyes. "RUN!" I shouted at John, sprinting along the path, my best friend following. I heard the dog howl again, followed by the pounding of large, heavy feet. We followed the route back to camp, the dog falling behind us. We reached the clearing, collapsing in the dirt. My chest heaved; I was exhausted. My eyes were closed. I opened them to see a circle of thirteen-fourteen year olds around me and John. I groaned. I didn't want to tell them about what had happened. It was going to be a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

"We were in the woods..." I began, talking to the whole of the camp. They all wanted to know what happened. "and he heard this howl. It sounded pretty close. We ran towards it, and we heard it breathing...I turned around and saw it. It was huge, the size of a horse. We ran away from it, but it followed us. Then we got back here."

"No one believes you, freak!" Sal shouted. Everyone nodded, except Molly, John and Greg. Of course my three best friends believed me. Of course no one else did. I wouldn't.

"Fake!" I heard someone shout.

"Loser!" I looked at the ground.

"Lanky git!" Andy shouted. I had thought we were friends, once. It hurt more than it should have.

"Nerd!" My cheeks blazed.

"Geek!" I was going to explode.

"Freak!"

"You're all meretricious imbeciles!" I yelled. Everyone stared at me. "You know nothing about me! You know nothing about my life! So don't judge me!" I paused. "Actually, judge me, don't judge me, I don't care. Just leave me alone." And with that, I stormed off into the tent.

* * *

"Sherlock, you can't stay in there forever." I heard Molly call from behind the zipped tent door.

"Yes I can." I said, my slightly voice muffled by the sleeping bag I had pulled around me.

"I'm coming in, then."

"No! I don't want you to see me like this." I shouted, rolling over on the hard ground and wiping away the tear that had been rolling silently down my face. I knew Molly would come in anyway. I sighed as she unzipped the tent door, climbing in and sitting down next to me.

"I know you saw a dog. I know you were telling the truth."

"What does it matter? No one else does!" I looked up, and saw that Molly was hurt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"You're upset."

"That's not a valid excuse."

Molly shrugged.

"I thought Sal was your friend. I thought Andy was, too."

"We were close in the first year...but then we kind of drifted apart."

"Why?"

"You won't like it."

"I won't mind."

Molly looked at me. "I went out with Andy. Sally likes him so she hates me, really, and then when me and Andy broke up that changed things..."

"Oh." I said, barely registering the information. It didn't matter to me. Not that I didn't care about Molly- I did, obviously -but it just...wasn't important information. I had a feeling I would delete it at some point.  
We sat in silence for a while. There was nothing to say.

"Are you coming out or what? Staying in here will just make you more miserable."

"I'm fine."

"You didn't cry when we were kidnapped, but you're crying now? You're _not _fine."

"I'm not crying."

"Yes you are."

I sighed, and sat up. I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt and pulled the sleeping bag around myself, embarrassed. Molly laughed.

"Not a bit cold?"

I shrugged. I _was _cold, but I hadn't realized until Molly said.

"I'll leave you to get dressed. Try not to die of hypothermia while I'm away."


	7. Chapter 7

"Sherlock, where are you going?" Greg shouted from behind me as I stormed off into the woods. It was dark, I was scared, but I needed to find the dog.

"If you're going after that bloody dog then I'm coming with you. So's John, and I'm pretty sure Molly will be too."

"I appreciate it, Greg, I really do, but if anyone gets killed tonight it'll be me, only me." I said, and walked off into the woods. Greg followed. "Go back, Greg. Please."

"Molly! John! Get over here!"

* * *

We heard the howl an hour after they followed me into the woods. I was glad for the company, but they slowed me down. I doubted anyone would make it out of the woods alive. We chased down the dog, tearing through the foliage and trees, until we found it. We crouched behind a bush, watching it, listening to it pant. It howled again- the sound was bot terrifying and deafening, threatening to burst my ear drums and send me running through the woods.  
I took a photo; when I looked, the dog didn't show up on the screen. It was too dark.

"Shit." I cursed loudly. _Too _loudly. The hound's neck snapped round, it's eyes fixated on me, growling angrily. For the second time that night I sprinted off in the direction of the camp, Molly, John and Greg following, running as fast as they could to keep up with me. I took a wrong turn and tumbled down a mud bank, my duffle coat wripping on twigs and rocks as I rolled. I tucked my elbows in and pushed my hands out to bring myself to a stop. John hit me, rolling fast and knocking me over again, Greg and Molly collapsing on top of us. The hound howled from on top of the bank; it wasn't coming after us, then. I breathed a sigh of relief. We would be dead if it _had _followed us...or would we? John didn't say how the man was killed, he had only said it was blamed on a dog. What if he had been killed- murdered?

* * *

We were lost. Terribly, hopelessly lost in the woods with a maybe-killer dog. It was midnight, or past, and the moon was shining brightly, providing some light. We attempted to climb the mud bank, but it was futile; the gradient was too steep.

"We have to find another way back up." I said, brushing off a layer of dirt from my duffle coat. Molly groaned. We had been stuck in the woods for hours; I was starting to wonder if we would ever get out. I flopped down into the mud, completely resigned. John collapsed next to me, Molly and Greg following.

"I think it was a murder." I said, loosing all tack.

"Are you sure you're not just wishing for another case?" asked John skeptically.

I shrugged. "Probably."

"AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" someone shouted from the top of the bank. They spontaneously rolled down the hill towards us; we jumped out of the way as the figure, arms flailing, hit the ground. It was distinctly Dimmock-shaped. None of us helped him up. He didn't _get _up. John looked at his head and body, being the most medically qualified, and announced that Dimmock was most likely concussed. I was tempted to leave him in the forest to die, but thought better of it. John sat him against the mud bank and we waited for him to wake up; we couldn't move on until he did. What a _fun _trip this had turned out to be.


	8. Chapter 8

Dimmock woke up three hours later, spluttering and dizzy. He threw up a couple times; once on a tree, and once, to my utter disgust, on me.

"Dimmock, you bloody idiot, can't you do that somewhere else?"

"Not really, freak."

"_Don't _call me freak, or I'll thwack you so hard you'll be concussed. Again."

He laughed, the last of his puke splattering on the ground. Disgusting.

"What are you even doing here, Dimmock?"

"I was looking for the dog." He said. I raised an eyebrow. "Tell anyone this and I'll kill you- I want to be a DI, when I'm older." Greg and I exchanged a glance.

"You do realize that it's a wild goose chase? Besides, you didn't believe us when we told everyone."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"We're looking for it too- well, we were, but we...decided against it."

"Why? Too scared?"

"No, it's just...not worth it."

"Suit yourselves. I'm gonna find it. And when I do, you'll be sorry."

* * *

The five of us sat under the mud bank until the sun rose, which wasn't until about ten in the morning, with it being winter. We were exhausted, and Dimmock wouldn't stop pestering me and Molly until John punched him in the face, breaking his nose. I had to suppress a grin, although Greg and John didn't bother. Eventually John's medically-trained conscience bugged him too much and he showed Dimmock how to hold his head so that the blood would clot, but he was still grinning while he did it. Dimmock just looked miserable the whole ten or so hours we were stuck in the woods, especially in the five hours when his nose was broken, although it stopped him from talking, which made me and everyone else a lot _less _miserable.

Eventually, as the light broke the foliage that was still clinging to the winter trees, we got up and tried to find a way back up the bank. We walked until we found a steep hill that brought us round to the top of the mud bank and in the direction of camp. We arrived at about one in the afternoon, freezing, extremely tired and worn out. Dimmock walked away from us to his friends, who hand't came to the woods with him, and we collapsed in our tent, Greg grabbing a bag of fudge and emptying it into his stomach.

"Fudge therapy?" I joked. Greg laughed weakly. This was the third day of the trip; we had four days to solve the possible-murder.


	9. Chapter 9

"There's nothing to go on!" John said after I told him my possibly-murder-theory. I shrugged. It was true, I supposed. Maybe it was wishful thinking, how ever twisted that seemed.

"The only way to actually find out the truth is to follow the dog back to either it's owner or it's home."

"I'm not going into the woods _again_."

"I'll go by myself, then."

"Firstly, I'm your best friend. I _have _to come. Secondly, how are you going to find the dog and then follow it? _It_'ll be following _you_."

"Oh. Right. I...hadn't quite worked it out properly."

"You're going to get me killed."

"It's your fault your morals are so strong!"

"I'm the best friend you'll ever have, d'you know that?"

"Yes."

"If we die, I'm going to kick your arse in heaven."

"I get the idea, John! We're not going to die, okay?" I near shouted.

"Are we going into the woods again?" groaned Greg from across the campsite. He heard me, then.

"Looks like it." John shouted back. I put my head in my hands. Why did I have such good friends?

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" whispered John from the tree opposite me.

"Yes!" I hissed, wrapping my arms tighter around the tree branch, literally holding on for dear life.

"I hate you, d'you know that?"

"Yes, I know that! Now shut up and wait for John and Greg!"

We waited in silence for half an hour, and I started to wonder whether Greg had been eaten, but then I heard him shouting for help, followed by the pounding of his feet, which was oddly reassuring. I saw him sprint towards me and pulled him up into the tree. The dog, who had been chasing him, stood in the middle of the small clearing, sniffing, trying to find his bait. Yes, Greg had been used as bait. I couldn't say I felt bad, even though he was one of my best friends.

"Have you got the gun?"

I held it up. It was a water pistol, not a gun, really, but it had a GPS tracker I had taken from Dimmock's phone when he was asleep. I pulled the trigger and it flew like a bullet towards the dog, burying its self in it's flesh, hidden by the mess of black fur. I smiled- it had worked.

"I thought we weren't allowed to bring mobile phones!" said Molly, who was in the tree next to me.

"We weren't, but that didn't stop anyone." I said, pulling out my own phone, which was configured to track the chip now nested in the dog's back within a quarter of a mile.

"What now?"

"We wait until the morning."

"We've only ever been able to find it at night...that's what the chip's for?"

I nodded, realizing I hadn't explained the plan properly. The three of us climbed out of our trees, moving around the dog and back to camp. I couldn't believe I would have to wait until morning; I wanted to track the dog _now, _although I knew it wouldn't work. I sighed. It would be the longest night of my life.


	10. Chapter 10

"That's...odd." I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else. It looked like the dog had disappeared off the face of the earth; the tracker wasn't able to be located. The only reason that would happen was if the dog was underground...

"The teacher's camp...there's a basement in one of their chalets, isn't there?"

"I think so." said John. "I don't know why there would be a dog in the cellar, though."

"I suppose. It's just that...if the dog's under ground..."

"Ah...right. You don't think...?"

"I'm not sure."

"It looks like that."

"Yeah, but we can't just go around accusing people of murder."

John pushed his hands through his hair. "I think...I think we should leave it to the police."

"What? Why?"

"Because no one will listen to us!"

"Yeah but John, what if they never find a killer?"

"What if there _is _no killer? Leave it to the experts."

I glared at John. "Fine. Leave it to the police. Let a murderer teach high school kids."

"Look, Sherlock. _We can't solve this case_. We don't even know if it's a case at all! Just forget about it, okay."

"Ugh, fine. If you need me I'll be in the tent."

* * *

"Please don't hate me, Sherlock."

"I don't hate you, I just want left alone, okay?"

John didn't reply. I returned to the barely built mind palace, searching for facts I had earlier overlooked. Maybe John was right. Maybe I _should _just forget the whole thing...I sighed, pushing the thought from my mind. I needed to concentrate. I couldn't. Instead, I listened to Molly and John talking outside; something about Andy, I thought. I couldn't care less that he was being gossiped about. He wasn't my friend anymore. Friends don't call each other freaks, I decided. He was an idiot and I didn't need someone like that in my life, but it still hurt that he turned on me. Maybe he hadn't liked me in the first place. That was probable.


End file.
